Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Re: The Choose-O

Please my little sugar lumps do not be angry, but I am postponing the Choose-O tale until Thursday, as something happened to me yesterday that is just too damn weird to not relate right now.

So, yesterday I was not the happiest of bunnies wot with me 'arfuritis' playing up something chronic, (knees, hips, neck, back, paws, everything extremely 'Ouchy') and what with hardly being able to type thanks to the bad paper cuts that were deep enough to require plasters I decided the best thing all round would be to try and stay as still as possible and keep taking teh medikashun in the hope that some of it might work.
But me being the restless insomniac thing that I am, when I got a call from the Ex-Partner-In-Crime asking me if I was up to meeting him just up the road for a snifter at the pub then a trip to the shops so that I could get me some food shopping in with the promise of a lift back home in his car, I thought 'Akay! It'll do me good to get a bit of fresh air and so, and also I won't have to carry any bags home either, woohoo!'

And so I scampered up the road as fast as I could, then remembered I was still in my pyjamas, went back home again, got changed and finally hobbled it up to the pub.
We sat and chatted about stuff that had to be sorted while I quaffed a couple of glasses of the house paint stripper, and when we'd finished I said that I'd go on ahead to the supermarket while he stopped off at the offy for a couple of cans of cider for himself.
I'd only been in the store for about three minutes and was stood trying to decide what variety of rice I wanted, when suddenly my ankle was crushed up against the bottom food shelf by something that was very heavy and exerting a hell of a lot of force on my bones.
I yelped in surprize and tried to move away from whatever the fuck heck it was, but in doing so I managed to twist my right knee, which just happens to be the one that is most affected by arthritis, and therefore the most painful.
Yelping, swearing and tyring to get away from whatever was pinning my ankle to the static shelf didn't work, so I tried again, but rather more loudly and at last the pressure went and I managed to fall over onto the nearby boxes of parboiled rice.
Next I knew a shop assistant came into view asking if I was alright and explaining that he simply hadn't seen me, and after swearing a little bit more I insisted that I was fine and tried to stand up.
Turns out, I was not as 'alright' as I thought I was, and standing up made everything even more painful and the store start to wobble, so I decided to fall over to the floor as the parboiled rice packets had proved uncomfortable and far from sturdy.
It was then that the EPIC turned up and after asking me if I'd managed to finish the shopping, made sure I was not going to croak, told the crowd of shoppers to sod off and stop staring at me, made sure the shop assistant got me a chair, settled me down and went to finish the shopping.
By this time I'd managed to calm down a tad, and when the shop assistant asked if I was alright, I said that I thought I'd live, but that as I had arthritis and had just had a fully laded pallet thingy ram a plastic bread container into my ankle and pinning it to a stationary object and had twisted a knee whilst trying to escape, I was in rather a lot of pain.
To my amazement, the shop assistant said that he'd not only done first aid, but also had finished a course in physiotherapy, and he would feel a lot better if I would let him check my ankle over to make sure I was alright.
Wincing, I managed to get my shoe off and let him check out the damage.
Being a qualified massage therapist and first aider myself, I'd already sussed out that I was in for some very pretty bruising and a day or so of putting my hind paws up with alternating hot and cold compresses, but reckoned a second opinion wouldn't go amiss.
The chap started testing out my ankle, and straight away found the spot that had been damaged. He then started to work on the pressure points around the injury and test out my tendons to ensure they were all still doing what they were supposed to be doing.
I was stunned.
The bloke was a natural at massage and healing. I should know, as I was brought up by a mother who was a 'medium, clairvoyant and healer' and I come from a long line of 'white witches' which is why I probably ended up doing the same thing myself, although I've so far avoided being burnt at the stake*
The bloke did an amazing job, and although my poor paw is still turning all colours of the rainbow and my right knee rebels when I try to put weight on it, I know I could have been a hell of a lot worse.
The only time I panicked while he was sorting my ankle out, was when another shop assistant tried to pass by where I was sitting pulling a fully laded pallet truck. He soon changed direction when I said clearly and in no uncertain terms that in no way was he going to come anywhere near me that the sodding thing if he valued his life.
Anyways, a little while later, I was helped to the exit using a shopping trolley as an impromptu zimmer frame, and was told to please let them know how I was doing, especially if I got any worse so that they could help me with anything.
Not only that, but the EPIC was not charged for the shopping!
Suing them never even entered my head as the whole thing really was an accident. I know I'm going to be in rather more pain than usual for a little while, but all the staff, even the ones who had nothing to do with me getting squished, were so very helpful and considerate I even felt bad for having sworn so much when I got 'attacked'.
What was so weird about the whole incident, is that I really felt that they were genuinely sorry about what had happened, and I was so well looked after by everyone there.
In this day and age, that is a very, very rare thing to happen.
I've had accidents before that were not my fault where no-one has even had the courtesy to ask if I was alright, let alone apologize, check me over, get me a glass of water and tell me to please lest me know how I'm doing asap.
The last place where I had an accident was at my old local pub a couple of years ago. Nobody there even asked if I was alright even though I was carted away in an ambulance, and the only comment a member of staff came out with at the time was that it was nothing to do with her.
The best thing about that is that they've now closed, and the pub will be undergoing a change of management very soon. I did a little happy skip and 'LOLed' when I saw the sign in the window.
Maybe if they'd been as caring as the staff at my local supermarket they'd still be in business.


*Getting stoned is an entirely different matter.

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